Chapter 5
There was discord in the Master's chamber. Adrienne faced her accuser, face closed, giving nothing away.
"She wasn't even here when the Slayer and her minions killed our Master!" snarled Gray, a vampire somewhat younger than Adrienne herself. "What right does she have to stand at his side now?"
"She brought us together!" shot back Rocque, a longtime friend of Adrienne's and one truly enormous vampire. "She is the one who discovered the portal to bring our Master back. She traveled the world for years, chasing down the smallest clues. And she is your elder, Gray. She has more than earned your respect—and her place."
"My elder, you say." Gray took a step nearer. "Yet I have served the Master more faithfully. I was initiated into the Order as a fledgling, and I have not strayed. Adrienne was turned by Darla, who spurned the Master to live aboveground with Angelus." Gray smiled thinly. "We all know what's happened to Darla's line. Angelus cursed, Darla killed by her own offspring, Penn, James, and Elizabeth all dead, Spike chipped and whipped by the Slayer—insane Drusilla is almost the only one in that line who remains a true vampire aside from Adrienne herself. And Adrienne has gone soft over the death of her pretty little lover."
Gray might have gone on much longer had Adrienne not made a sudden movement that resulted in him crumbling to dust. Adrienne's eyes were calm as she displayed the stake that had killed him.
"Would anyone else like to cast aspersions on my family?" she asked. "Or question my place?" Deafening silence met her queries. "Or perhaps someone would like to imply I've gone soft." Her white-clad form paced the room, heels clicking on the concrete floor. "I have not gone soft since Paulo's murder. Anyone who thinks I have will only have to watch while I drink the blood of the Slayer who killed him to know the truth. If anything, my boy's death makes me all the more eager to turn this world into a living hell fit for the Old Ones to walk again."
"Enough," said the Master from his throne. "Adrienne, who crossed worlds to restore the Order, has taken her rightful place at my side. The Slayer Amanda shall belong to her. This is my judgment." He steepled his fingers under his chin. "Adrienne, my child, it is time to rebuild the Order. Go above now, and find humans who are young and strong. Bring them to me, and I myself shall turn them into my children."
Adrienne bowed. She signaled to Rocque and a few other vampires, and they left the chamber.
***
"She won't really take it that seriously, will she?" asked Amanda. "I mean, vampires can't really love, so hey, she'll just grab herself another boy-toy and forget about it, won't she?"
"I know you live in a war zone, Amanda," said Buffy, "but you really need to pay more attention to the ins and outs of vamp society. Watch your back for Adrienne."
"Whatever." Amanda shrugged. The Slayers were walking briskly through the Wilkins cemetery. They found the crypt they were looking for, went in, and descended into the tunnels beneath it. "I'm not worrying about it."
Buffy shook her head inwardly. Amanda was just a kid, the way Buffy herself had been once upon a time. Hate the thought that I was once that naïve, the elder Slayer thought.
"Just don't put money on it. And keep your eyes open." They reached a fork. Buffy paused, trying to decide which way to go.
"This way," said Amanda, pointing to her right.
"What makes you think they're that way?"
"Footprints. Lots of 'em." Amanda indicated the ground, and sure enough, Buffy saw that it was covered in footprints.
"Score one for Tonto," Buffy said.
"Huh?"
"Tonto. You know, Lone Ranger? Cartoons?" Buffy got only a blank stare in response. "Kids these days. You missed out on all the great cartoons. Like Thundercats."
"What's that?"
"Never mind."
They walked on cautiously, senses primed. A slight sound alerted Buffy to a single vampire up ahead. She signaled to Amanda, and they crept up on him in near-silence. With lightning swiftness, Buffy grabbed the vampire from behind, threw him against the wall, flipped him around, and pinned him there with her forearm. Amanda raised her stake for the kill, only to be stopped by Buffy.
"No kill, Amanda. We're going to talk to this gentleman."
"Talk? Why?" asked Amanda.
" 'Cause he's too nicely dressed to be Mr. Random Vamp. I'm thinking he's got connections. Don't you, Slick?"
The vampire hissed, showing his teeth. "I will say nothing to you, Slayer!"
"And he's definitely got that nice Order of Aurelius attitude going. See, Amanda, your usual vamp would be dressed in whatever fashions were popular when he got killed, vampires being cases of arrested development and all. And the 'I will say nothing to you, Slayer!' thing?" Buffy imitated the vampire's voice and delivery. "Dead giveaway. Your usual vamp would just say something intelligent like, 'Huh?'"
"So if he's from the Order, we're on the right track," deduced Amanda.
"Probably." Buffy turned her attention back to the vampire. "You wanna give us some information? I won't stake you if you do."
"I would die rather than betray my Master!" the vampire proclaimed.
"So you are from the Order. They playing house anywhere near here?" Buffy asked. The vampire's eyes darted down the tunnel. "That way?" Buffy cocked her head down the tunnel in the same direction. "Good to know."
"The Master will drain your blood, Slayer!" said the vampire. "And the Lady Adrienne will tear the other one limb from limb!"
"Uh-oh," said Amanda.
"See? Was I right, or was I right? Let that be a lesson to you, Amanda: respect your elders. Thanks for the info, Slick." Buffy patted the vampire on the chest and released him.
He looked confused. "You're really letting me go?"
"Hey, I promised, didn't I?" Buffy shrugged. "I said if you gave me information, I wouldn't stake you, and I always do what I say. I won't stake you."
The vampire barely had time to look relieved before he exploded into dust at the end of Amanda's stake.
"I didn't promise anything," the younger Slayer quipped.
Buffy winked at her. "There's hope for you yet. Wanna go check it out?"
Amanda did. The two Slayers moved down the tunnel swiftly and silently. They had just reached another fork when Buffy heard footsteps down one branch. She and Amanda hid themselves in the other and watched as a phalanx of vampires trooped by, led by Adrienne. As soon as they were gone, Buffy and Amanda cautiously stepped back out into the corridor.
"Did you see that vampire? The black one?" Amanda hissed. "He was huge!"
"Uh-huh."
"Enormous!"
"Big, so to speak. I get it, Amanda. Let's see if we can figure out where they came from."
About a quarter of a mile later, down the hall Adrienne and her company had come from, the Slayers discovered a door carved with evil-looking runes. Buffy looked at Amanda, who nodded.
"I've seen lots of similar stuff in my world, normally around the Master's strongholds," she whispered. "This is the place."
"Good," Buffy whispered back. "Let's go tell the Gileses."
***
Sitting on some crates in the alley behind the Magic Box, Xander gently rubbed Willow's back as she regained control over her breathing. He'd forcibly removed her from the interior when it had become plain that it was going to take time for her to recover from her hysterics, and now, fifteen full minutes after Tara's departure, he was overwhelmingly glad that he had.
"Still with me, Will?" the young carpenter asked gently.
Willow was leaning all the way forward, holding her head between her hands. A soft hiccup escaped her. "All I do is hurt her," Willow murmured. "No matter where we are, she suffers because of me . . ."
"Not true. Not even remotely true. An evil, soulless vampire in another dimension hurt her."
"A vampire who's me," Willow insisted.
"So you mean I'm to blame for the bite on her neck?" Xander asked pointedly.
Willow raised her tear-stained face to look at her best friend. "No! Of-of course not."
"But you're responsible for what your evil vamp-twin does. Not getting the logic here."
"We sent her back! How stupid could we have been, Xander?"
"Really stupid. I remind you, we were high schoolers." Xander wasn't backing down one inch. "Bad decision, yeah. I'm with you all the way there. It doesn't mean we got Tara's girlfriend killed."
"What if we did?" challenged Willow. "What if we sent her back, and then she killed Marnie? We were the ones who set her loose! God, Xander, what did we do?"
"In all likelihood," interjected Rupert from the doorway, "very little that made any difference." Xander and Willow turned to look at him. "Your Mr. Giles and I have been comparing notes. Our timelines run parallel, and we have determined that the spell that brought your counterpart into this world, Willow, was performed after she had been killed in our world. That means that she was most likely snatched from our world, and then returned, in the seconds before her death."
Xander looked back at Willow and jerked a thumb at Rupert. "See? Enough with the angsting. Stupid thing to do, but nobody got hurt."
Willow didn't look very comforted. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, and pressed her forehead against one hand. "I suppose that's supposed to make Tara feel better?"
"Tara is in pain," said Rupert. "She has been for a long time. In that, she's no different from the rest of us. Or, I would imagine, you." He sighed, sitting on a crate beside Xander. "Now that we are here, we see what we could have had—should have had, but for the Council's blindness. I have but to look at the two of you to realize just how different it might have been."
"What happened?" Xander asked, almost afraid to hear the answer but needing it nonetheless. "To us. In the other world. What happened?"
Rupert took off his glasses. "Willow was probably just as she was here: a bright, shy girl who loved the library. She helped me set up the computers there, as a matter of fact. You, Xander, were a friend of hers I saw in passing." He paused. "I was very fond of you, Willow. When the Master rose and everything changed, you and Xander were among the first to volunteer to help me form a resistance. Both of you fought by my side for almost a year.
"But then, one night on patrol, we were overwhelmed by a vampire gang. I called Oz to come around with his van. Xander was knocked unconscious, however, and when I stopped to help him, I heard Willow cry out. Oz and Larry showed up, and we got everyone into the van as quickly as possible, only to realize Willow wasn't with us anymore. She was simply . . . gone." Rupert was quiet for a long moment. "Two nights later, Xander disappeared, and when we next saw the two of you, you were vampires."
"God," breathed Xander. Willow had stopped crying during Rupert's narrative and was simply looking at him, engrossed.
"Tell me," said Rupert somewhat hesitantly. "Tell me what it is the two of you do. Are you working? In school?"
"I work construction," said Xander. "I'm a carpenter, and I'm foreman of my own crew."
"I go to UC Sunnydale," Willow said, her voice faint. "I'm a double major in computer science and history, with a minor in philosophy."
Rupert chuckled gently. "And no doubt pulling a 4.0. Yes, that's what I'd have imagined for—for my Willow."
There was silence for a time in the cool night air, and then Willow stood. Xander and Rupert automatically stood with her. Willow stepped over to Rupert and reached up to hug him. He returned the embrace in a very reserved, Giles-ish way.
"I'm sorry," Willow murmured. "I make so many mistakes . . ."
"We all do. You'd hardly be growing up if you didn't." Rupert smiled fondly, patting her back, and Willow pulled away. "We should perhaps go back inside. The Slayers should be back soon."
Willow wiped the last of the tears from her face, and the three returned to the inside of the shop.
***
Buffy and Amanda were about halfway back to the Magic Box when they saw Tara walking rapidly toward them.
"Hey, Tara," said Amanda. "Guess what we . . ." She trailed off as the look on Tara's face became plain. "What's wrong?"
"How can you even call yourself a Slayer?" Tara demanded of Buffy.
Buffy stopped short, as did Amanda, and Tara continued to glare at the elder Slayer. After a moment, Buffy turned to Amanda.
"Why don't you go back to the Magic Box and tell them what we found?" she suggested to Amanda. "I have a feeling this is going to take a little while."
Amanda, looking concerned, moved off, pausing only briefly to touch Tara's arm. Tara paid her no attention.
As soon as Amanda was gone, Buffy asked Tara, "What's this about?"
"That thing," spat Tara. "That evil thing you sent back to us when you could have rid the world of it forever!"
"Vampire Willow," deduced Buffy.
Tara wasn't finished ranting. "You who make friends of vampires and demons—you who take pity on them—you're not fit to be called a Slayer! You may as well be taking lives with your own hands, for all the good you're doing. You allowed that vile thing to be sent back to us, to where you knew she'd be killing again, when you should have staked her the moment you saw her!"
"That's enough." Buffy's voice was quiet, but sharp as a whip. "I understand what you're saying, Tara, I really do--"
"You understand nothing!" shouted Tara. "She killed the woman I loved, and you did nothing to stop it!"
"But I do understand. I know what it's like to lose, and to face someone you love, look into their eyes, and know that they have to die for others to live. I know what it's like to be afraid to love because you're afraid to lose." Buffy watched Tara's face, watched fury stripped away to reveal raw grief. The Slayer pressed on.
"We made a mistake in sending Vampire Willow back. I know that. But it was years ago—we were all just kids, and we couldn't do what we should've. I'm sorry, Tara. I'm really sorry, and I wish things would've been different. All I can tell you is that if it happened again, we would do things differently. Willow would probably stake her own vampire self, actually. We just couldn't do it then. And if you were harmed because of our mistake . . . all I can say is that I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. And I'll help you beat the Master."
Tara shut her eyes, a tear rolling down her cheek. "It's been so long . . . so many losses. Jonathan, Larry, and Oz have been with Giles longer than I have. Since I joined, everyone else has died, or run off. It doesn't end."
"No," agreed Buffy softly. "Not for us."
Tara wiped the tear away and opened her eyes again. "Did you find the Master?"
"Yeah. We found him."
"Where is he?"
Something in Tara's voice and face, something hard, alerted Buffy. "I don't think I should tell you that right now."
"You owe me," said Tara, her voice almost a growl. "You owe me the chance to--"
"Get yourself killed? You can't take on the Master yourself; it would be suicide."
"Do you think it matters?"
"To me, yes. I almost lost Willow to vengeance when our Tara died; I'm not going to let you destroy yourself, too."
That caught Tara's attention. "What happened?"
Buffy weighed her words. "When Tara was murdered, Willow delved into some dark magicks to avenge her death. If it hadn't been for some fancy footwork from Giles, and a lot of bravery from Xander, she might have lost her soul completely. She barely recovered. In fact, I'm not sure she'll ever completely heal."
There was silence. Buffy watched Tara's beautiful, scarred profile as the witch fought with her own emotions.
"Why don't you come back to the Magic Box with me now?" Buffy offered. "We'll talk strategy."
"Not now. Not now." Tara looked at Buffy. "I need some time. I'm gonna walk a bit." Buffy looked skeptical. "I won't do anything stupid, don't worry. I just need to . . . walk."
"Adrienne's out with a vampire gang," said Buffy. "It's not the best time to walk. If you really want to, I'll walk with you, but I'm not letting you wander off alone. Especially not right now."
"Then walk." Tara turned and began walking away. Buffy, too, began walking, but kept some distance between them. They didn't talk.
***
In the Magic Box, Amanda had just (rather uncomfortably) presented her and Buffy's findings to the others gathered there.
"That's one piece of the puzzle," said Giles.
"Now if we can only find how to close the portal," said Rupert.
"Um, Giles?" said Jonathan, half-raising his hand.
"Yes?" they both answered.
Jonathan blinked. "I just found a spell for determining how many people have come and gone through a portal," he said. "Could be useful."
"Not to put a lid on the happy," said Xander, "but if that thing's zapping people through whenever they use magic, how are we going to cast a spell around it without anybody getting snatched?"
"Perhaps a sort of stasis field around the portal?" suggested Giles. "I know of a few spells. We would need a real witch's help, however. You said Buffy and Tara were . . . talking?"
Amanda grimaced a bit. "Yeah. Talking."
There was a thump at the second table. Dawn jerked herself bolt upright as everyone looked at her. "I'm awake!"
"You nodded off," accused Jonathan.
"Wanker," shot back Dawn.
"Dawn, I'll thank you not to repeat words Spike taught you," said Giles stiffly. The teen looked guilty. Giles checked his watch. "And actually, I believe it would be best if we all got some sleep. We can't proceed without Tara anyway."
"We're wasting time!" protested Amanda. "We need to get back to our dimension soon."
"Actually, Amanda, this is rather an excellent opportunity," Rupert said. "With two Slayers and less of a vampire power structure, we have a real chance to destroy the Master here and now. That's worth investing our time in."
Amanda considered this. "True."
"Then we'll wait," said Rupert.
They began to gather the scattered research materials to put them away. Amanda went to Rupert.
"I'm going to find Buffy. That vamp gang can't be up to any good," she told her Watcher.
"A good idea," said Rupert.
"We'll probably be pulling an all-nighter," Amanda went on. "Where are you going to stay?"
It was a good question. Even better was Jonathan's, "Where should I sleep?"
Eventually, it was agreed that Jonathan and Rupert would stay at Xander's apartment. "Will you be okay tonight at Buffy's, Will?" Xander asked her.
Willow forced a smile. "I'll be fine. I'll stay in Buffy's room if she's not gonna be back." Xander looked dubious. "I'll be okay. Don't worry."
***
All Willow needed was a nightshirt. Neither Buffy nor Tara were home when she got there, so she ran up to her room to change before going to Buffy's room for the night. She stripped down quickly, tossing her clothes in the hamper and her bra in her underwear drawer, and pulled on her favorite nightshirt, stopping to remove her jewelry and watch before turning to leave the room.
Tara stood in the doorway. Willow froze. The blond didn't look angry anymore. She just looked terribly tired, weary beyond physical exhaustion.
"I-I was just getting a nightshirt," Willow babbled. "Jonathan and your Giles are staying with Xander tonight, so I couldn't, 'cause even though I'm gay, they're not, so it just wouldn't be right. I was gonna stay in Buffy's room if she's not coming back. I don't know if she'll be back, though, so maybe I should take the couch. Do you know if she's coming back? Amanda's not, or she didn't think so, and I should just leave now." Tara moved fully into the room, shutting the door behind her. "Or maybe you want to talk."
"We ran into Giles. Buffy's Giles, I mean," said Tara very softly, her voice devoid of emotion. "He said it would've been impossible for you to have sent . . . her back more than a few seconds before she was dusted."
"Still doesn't make what we did any less stupid," said Willow.
Tara shrugged out of the jacket she was wearing and sat on the edge of the bed, looking wrung out. The jacket fell to the floor. "I just keep thinking—a few years ago, I might've done the same thing. Not been able to kill a vampire because of its face. But I-I don't remember what that's like." She swallowed hard, her lovely face twisting with pain. "I shouldn't have said what I did. I'm sorry."
Tentatively, Willow took a step forward, suddenly very conscious that she was clad only in a nightshirt and fuzzy socks. "You've been living in a war zone, Tara. I can't imagine what you've been through."
"Can't you?" Tara looked at her. "Buffy said that when your Tara died, you turned to dark magic for vengeance. Is that true?"
Silently, Willow cursed Buffy. She closed her eyes. "Yes," she whispered. "I did some horrible things."
It wasn't until Tara started to speak again that Willow could force herself to open her eyes.
"One night," Tara began, "Marnie and I were out together doing some detective work. We knew the Master was planning something big, and we were trying to find out what it was. We got a few clues and were on our way back to our safe house when they caught us."
"Xander and W-Willow?" Willow guessed.
Tara nodded. "They took us by surprise. We fought back as well as we could, but we weren't strong enough. Not magically, not physically. Marnie, though, she managed to burn her face. She might have gotten the upper hand, too, but Xander—he broke my leg so bad the bone was sticking right through my jeans." Willow shuddered. A part of her brain also noted that Tara wasn't referring to vampire Willow by name.
"Xander was going to kill me right then and there," Tara went on, "but Marnie broke off fighting the other one to push him away and throw her body over mine. I told her to go, to run, but she wouldn't, and . . . she got ahold of Marnie, and she was angry. Xander hauled me up to make me watch while she bit into Marnie. I nearly passed out from the pain, but that was nothing compared to watching while . . . It was only after Marnie was dead that he bit me."
There was a long moment of silence before Tara continued. Willow had perched on the edge of the bed beside Tara, desperate to comfort her but not knowing how. "The rest is a blur. We'd been expected at the safe house, and Oz and Larry got worried. I remember their van pulling up and a fight, and then it all just went black. When I woke up, I was in the safe house with my leg in a cast. All I could do was give Giles the information we had. The information Marnie had given her life for.
"I wasn't there when it all paid off. They found a sort of machine the Master had been building in the factory, and the Slayer had been sent in, so they were able to crash the party. A lot of us died that night, but we saved a lot of lives, too. Oz came to me afterward and told me he'd dusted her himself, and Xander was dead, too. He told me Marnie had been avenged."
Tara raised her head and looked at Willow. "It didn't matter. It didn't matter that they were dead; all I felt was pain. When I got better, I went out one day and found a vampire house.
"We'd done burn-outs before—set fire to houses full of vampires—but they didn't usually do much good. The vampires would just escape through the sewers. This time, though, I had so much fury, so much hate, that I was able to cast a boundary around the house to keep all the vampires inside while I made the house burn. I-I usually hated the burn-outs we did do. The vampires screaming inside or running out and burning up in the daylight, it would get to me. But this time . . . this time, I enjoyed it. I stood and watched and listened, and I enjoyed it.
"I paid for it the next day. I was physically ill and barely able to move, and Giles was furious. He lectured me for about an hour on using black magic, and how badly I could have damaged myself."
"He wasn't kidding," said Willow softly. "I didn't pay attention when he talked to me, and . . . I got dependent. Addicted to the power. And when Tara died, I got in so deep, I-I lost myself. The things I did . . . I'll never forgive myself for them. I killed a human being. Tortured and killed him in the name of vengeance, and all it left me was . . . empty."
"I never killed a human," said Tara. "But the way I kill vampires . . ." She sighed. "I used to be like Buffy: I felt sorry for the humans they once were. They had to be killed, and that was that. I did what was needed. After Marnie's death, though, I killed them because I—I wanted to. I hated them. Most of the time, I use fire to kill them because stakes seem too merciful. And I hate myself for doing it. I never used to be this way."
She turned pleading eyes on Willow. "Who am I supposed to be, Willow? How did I get this way? I don't even know who I am anymore." Tears spilled out of her eyes. "There have been so many who have come and gone, who have died, that I stopped even caring who they were. I can't love anymore. How did I get so lost, Willow? How did your Tara turn into me?"
Willow was crying, too. She reached out, and Tara reached out to her. They held each other, mourning what they'd lost.
The first kiss was automatic, an act of mutual comfort. It felt so good to them that a second one, then more, followed. Comfort turned into passion as mouths opened, as hands found bare flesh. Tara ran her hands through Willow's hair. Willow's hands stroked the length of Tara's back, then up and under her shirt. Tara pulled it off and threw it away. Willow's nightshirt followed, leaving her in her underwear. Tara fell back into the pillows, drawing Willow on top of her. It was so good, Willow knew just how to kiss her, where and how to touch her . . .
And tears fell on Tara's face. Willow drew up and away. "I can't," she whispered, agonized. "I can't."
The understanding was like a lightning bolt to Tara: It wasn't that Willow didn't want her; it was that Willow couldn't make love to her while thinking about her own Tara, essentially another woman. It touched Tara deeply. For so long, sex for her had just been about physical release, not love. And here was someone who wouldn't make love to her without meaning it.
"It's okay," Tara soothed her. "It's okay." She drew Willow down to her, holding the other girl gently as she wept.
Eventually, Willow's tears ceased. She drew away from Tara, wiping her face with her hands. A frown grew between her eyes as Tara unbuttoned and discarded her jeans, then her bra.
"Um, Tara," she began, not sure of what to say.
"It's okay, Willow," Tara said. "It's not about sex. Can we—can we just hold each other? It's been so long."
Willow smiled. "It really has been."
They moved under the sheets together, holding each other tight. Warmth and peace surrounded them as they fell into sleep.